


In the Belly of the Beast

by were_lemur



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-07-12
Updated: 2009-07-12
Packaged: 2017-10-17 03:51:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/172606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/were_lemur/pseuds/were_lemur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Davy Jones takes some <em>very personal</em> vengeance on James Norrington.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Belly of the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> It's not "non-con" or "dub-con" or a negotiated scene -- its **RAPE**. I've done my best to portray it as the violent, painful, humiliating, violating experience it actually is. Also, it's extremely personal -- my attempt to portray the emotions I felt as a helpless little kid, for the purpose of explaining the reality of sexual abuse as a counterpoint to stories which portray it as sexy fun times. I am not saying that such stories should not ever be written; I realize that non-con is a kink for a lot of people. I just wanted to write a more realistic story about the subject. **While I realize that this story will probably be read as sexy to some people, please, out of respect for me and my own experiences, don't tell me if you find it hot.**

When Jones rips his breeches open, Norrington knows what's about to happen.

He lashes out, possessed by an instinctive panic. His one, frantic swing is caught by Jones' tentacles before it can even get close to the monster's face. Jones hoists him off the ground and holds him there -- clearly enjoying his prey's helplessness -- and then backhands him to the ground with his claw.

Norrington tastes blood, and doesn't wait for his vision to clear before rolling over and scrambling for the back of the cell. But fingers close on his ankle, a tentacle wraps around his leg, and he's jerked away from even that illusory safety, pulled under Jones like the _Dauntless_ being swamped by a wave.

More tentacles wrap around his wrists, pinning him down to the floor of the cell. Another whips around his neck, tightens as a warning, but he's beyond caring. He thrashes, snaps his head back and catches Jones by surprise. For a moment, the tentacles loosen.

Norrington jerks his hands out of the rubbery coils, slams one elbow into Jones' ribs, reaches his other hand over his shoulder to try and dig his fingers into Jones' eyes. Not a gentleman's act, but for once in his life he doesn't care, all he wants to do is stop Jones before he can --

Tentacles wrap around his wrist and hand, tighten until he cries out, as Jones shoves his knees apart. The tentacle around his neck contracts like a noose, choking off his breath. Intellectually he knows that Jones won't kill him, not yet, not until he's broken past the point of providing any entertainment, but as his lungs burn for air and dark spots dance in his vision, he panics. Frantic, he claws at the tentacle with his free hand even while he hopes that he'll pass out, that when he wakes this will all be over or maybe he'll never wake up at all.

Even that hope is dashed when the tentacle slackens (because why would Jones bother to torture him when he isn't awake to feel it?) and the world comes rushing back in along with the air and the pain as something pushes between his legs and up and in and it feels like it's going to kill him. He screams, and feels a tentacle slip into his mouth but he couldn't stop screaming if his life depended on it even when the tentacle twists deeper into his throat.

Then Jones starts thrusting.

Norrington scrabbles helplessly at the damp planks beneath him, sure he's being ripped further open with every thrust. He's dimly aware of his own muffled screams and the hot, humiliated tears on his face, but they're far away compared to the pain, and Jones is grunting now and Norrington has nothing to pray for other than that he'll finish soon.

Finally, Jones lets out a growl. On his next thrust he collapses, panting, across Norrington. The tentacles loosen again, and it occurs to Norrington that he might be able to fight, but he's afraid it will only make Jones angry. Besides, what would be the point? Jones will do whatever he wants.

Finally, the tentacle slides from Norrington's mouth. He thinks he should stop the low cries that follow it out, but he could no more do that than escape the _Dutchman_. All he can do is lean his burning forehead against the cool dampness of the deck.

After what feels like an eternity, Jones pulls out, leaving only the pain. He pushes himself up on all fours, and Norrington can feel him looming like a thunderhead. He keeps his eyes squeezed shut. Then he feels tentacles writhing across his back and sides. He wraps his arms around his head, tries to shrink away from his own skin.

Jones laughs.

Norrington listens, every nerve tensed, while the creature stands up and then walks slowly out of the cell. The door clangs shut, and finally Norrington hears the sound of retreating footsteps.

Finally, Jones is gone.

He wants to curl up into himself and disappear, wants to scrub his skin raw, wants to get his back against the cell wall even if it's only the flimsiest illusion of safety, but if he moves it will hurt more, and besides, there is no safety. No escape. Nothing he can do to stop Jones from doing the same thing any time he wants.


End file.
